Ways of Promising
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: It was their private ritual and Daphne would never miss it. (HC fill; MC4A fill)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please exercise understanding of personal boundaries before and while reading.

 **Author's Note (On Characterization):** All my works should be considered to be Not Epilogue Compliant and I treat everything that is not the HP books and the Hogwarts Library Collection as _apocrypha_ (supplementary to canon but still outside of it) and treat it as such. I also tend to use the interpretation of Ron as a bit of a jealous & lazy idiot (give him the proper kick in the pants and he'll get over whatever bee is in his bonnet, but it's always going to take that kick) and that an obsessed fan who survived a year being possessed by a sociopath and didn't receive any kind of help for that would not be okay. How I have Ginny break from that _little trauma_ differs but if you feel that she isn't acting like "her canon self" chances are good that it's because I didn't handwave the trauma and had it shove her to a far end of one of her character spectra. That goes triple for Harry, who has a truckload of trauma that got handwaved in canon.

 **Author's Note(s):** For the record, I call this pool noodle (Luna/Daphne/Tracey) "Lunar Emeralds", and _everyone_ is welcome to board and grow it. I also call the other ship mentioned in this fic "Shadowed Lion", and same dealio: everyone is welcomed to start writing all about Blaise/Harry.

 **Challenge/Competition Block** :  
 **House** : Hufflepuff  
 **Year:** 6th  
 **Category:** Standard (750 – 1500)  
 **Prompt:** Thunder (Sound)  
 **Representation:** Dancing in the Rain; Triad (Lunar Emeralds); Healer/Medic; Daphne Greengrass  
 **Bonus Challenge(s):** Zucchini Bread (Luna & Harry); Second Verse (Three's Company – Lunar Emerald); Second Verse (Some Beach); Second Verse (Nightingale); Second Verse (Middle Name); Second Verse (Clio's Conclusion); Second Verse (Ladylike – Cold); Second Verse (Not a Lamp); Second Verse (Bechdel Test)  
 **Word Count** : 1416

-= LP =-  
 **Ways of Communication**  
Ways of Promising  
-= LP =-  
 _Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Would you ever win?  
_ – Fleetwood Mac, "Rhiannon"  
-= LP =-

Daphne couldn't say what had made her jolt out a dead sleep. The jerking motion that accompanied the awakening made Tracey grumble in her sleep, but the brunette didn't wake, only snuffled deeper into her pillow. Daphne cast her gaze over the bed again before moving to scan the room for her other girlfriend. It took less than a minute to decide that, no, Luna wasn't in their bedroom.

That wasn't necessarily unusual. Luna was more likely than Tracey to be up at night, as she tended to keep the same hours as her namesake. With her job as a school teacher at the local primary, Tracey tended to keep what most people would call _sensible hours_. Daphne was the oddball in their relationship. Her work as a field healer with the Auror Corps forced her to keep an unpredictable schedule. So, it wasn't uncommon for their generously sized bed to only have two of its three owners in it at any given time.

Thunder rolled low and grumpily in the distance, announcing the incoming storm.

Daphne knew then why Luna had left their bed.

Daphne knew better than to let her remain alone.

Carefully, to keep from waking Tracey, Daphne extracted herself from bed. Then she moved across the room on feet trained for silence. At the doorway, she turned back to look at Tracey. The brunette was still sleeping, peacefully wrapped around the pillow that Luna must have used to hide the fact that she had snuck away after they had fallen asleep earlier. Daphne smiled with a relieved breath. Even after all these years, the sight of her first bondmate still soothed her. Thus fortified, Daphne left the bedroom for the back garden where she knew Luna would be waiting.

It was their ritual, something that belonged to just the two of them.

It was a way for them to remember what was most important for the two of them. It was a way of remembering what they had almost lost, what the Blood War had almost stolen from them. It had been a close thing, far closer than any of them liked. There had been moments, _so many moments_ , when Death had chased at their heels like the Erinyes of the ancient myths, unstoppable and terrifying.

Daphne had known that getting involved with someone in Potter's circle would bring trouble. She had known it from the very first moment she and Tracey had found Luna in that alcove. She had tried to fight against becoming involved, or at least that is what she told herself and anyone who would listen. She could have just taken Tracey and run, abandon the stupid English wizards to the fate of their own making. She could have been perfectly safe and content in some hidey-hole, not nearly interesting or valuable enough to bother hunting.

But once tied to the true brains of Potter's group? Hiding had stopped being an option the moment Blaise had _spectacularly_ exposed his own relationship with Potter. As Blaise had been newly appointed leader of the neutral fraction, it had been more than a simple school-time romance. That was even before considering that it had been repelling an incursion by Death Eaters that the relationship had come to light. Assisting a rag-tag group of teens with a few adults sprinkled in to subdue Death Eaters, including a few of the Dark Lord's personal favorites, was an _excellent_ way to paint a target upon oneself and loved ones.

As she spotted Luna standing in the darkness, almost glowing in the dim light due to being so pale, Daphne had only one thought.

 _It had been worth it_.

"I didn't think you were going to come," Luna said as Daphne approached her. Her tone was so matter of fact, as if it didn't matter if Daphne had chosen to forego their little ritual. As if the sky was responding to the frustration roiling in her gut at the very thought, lightning jumped from cloud to cloud, followed a discontented roll of thunder. It took more will than it should have to keep from shaking the petite woman, almost overwhelming Daphne's unspoken vow to never touch either of her bondmates in anger. Sensitive to people's moods as always, Luna looked away from the threatening sky. "I wouldn't have blamed you for missing one. You were so angry earlier."

"Have I ever missed a storm that I was home for?" Daphne asked.

Perhaps her tone was too cold, too sharp, because Luna, usually so unflappable, _flinched_ at the words before turning away. Like a flower seeking the sun, she turned her face back to the sky. Her silence was enough when both of them knew the answer. There had been more than one occasion when Daphne had defied orders for bedrest, when only her bloody pride kept her from crawling, all for this secret ritual of theirs. Daphne knew that those outside her very small and makeshift family thought of her as cold. She knew the epithets they gave her. She would not have thought that someone actually tied to her by Magic Herself would think her so unfeeling that a stupid fight would make her avoid something as important as _this_.

Lightning flashed through the sky again as a thought occurred to Daphne. The thunder which followed it acted as a hammer to drive the sudden understanding through her soul. Aside from Potter, everyone else in Luna's association had eventually stopped doing these kinds of things with her. Some of the reasons were completely understandable. Xenophilius was a very good case for that, having been slowly losing his mind for years after the death of Luna's mother; the death of a bondmate tended to have that effect if Death didn't claim all the members of a bond at once. Others—most of them, honestly—had drifted away because they had believed Luna to be too weird or mad to stay in contact with once they had whatever they had needed in the first place. Only Potter had kept in contact after the breakup of that illegal club of his, and he had faced from certain people to stop.

(Daphne had never understood how anyone could be so blind as to think that would have worked. The two clearly had a weirdly deep connection to each other, and Potter was well known for his stubborn nature. Trying to break them apart was an _absolutely horrid_ bit of strategy for the simple reason that it was an effort in futility. Nothing was ever going to get them to turn on each other.)

"Oh, _Luna_ ," Daphne whispered, all frustration bleeding out from the wound to her heart. Unable to stop herself, she reached for the smaller woman, pulling Luna's unresisting body against her in a tight embrace. "You are a creative genius shining brighter than even the sun's own brilliance, but there are times when you are painfully oblivious to things, my love. It does not matter how angry or frustrated I am with you or even how much I abhor the smell of that foul concoction you insist on making—"

"It's dirigible plum jam," Luna muttered against Daphne's collarbone, "and it's wonderful."

"No, it's really—" Daphne cut off her rebuttal, prioritizing making her original point rather than descending into another argument. She still gave a frustrated huff against Luna's hair. "I'm not arguing about that anymore. My point is that there was a reason that Tracey and I opened our bond to include you and it's because we weren't willing to let anything take you from us. I'm afraid you're quite stuck with us, dislike of dirigible plums and all."

Another flash of lightning signaled another crash of thunder. This time, the thunder was accompanied by the clouds finally opening up. The rain moved over them in a sweeping sheet, drenching them both in moments. Daphne stepped away from Luna to offer her hand.

"May I have this dance, my love?"

Luna's answering grin was as infectious as always as she took Daphne's hand. Then they were dancing in the wild rains, laughter barely audible over the heavy _plop-plop_ of the rain itself. Just like the renewal of life cleansing the world, the rain and the dance washed their spirits of any negativity and reaffirmed their mutual love.

Like always, it was not about getting wet.

-= LP =-  
An Ending  
-= LP =-


End file.
